


Wily's Sons

by Camellianswer



Category: Rockman | Mega Man Classic
Genre: Brotherly Love, Chaos, Comedy, DWN - Freeform, Family, First Wily Numbers, Gen, Mental Disorders, Robot Masters - Freeform, Rockman 2, brotherly hate, dysfunctional
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-01 08:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17864297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camellianswer/pseuds/Camellianswer
Summary: Little glimpses into the life of Dr. Wily and his Robot Master sons. He's getting ready to take Light down once and for all! Meanwhile, the gen 2 Robot Masters drive him bananas.More will come soon, never fear. The second set of Robot Masters are my fave!





	1. Chapter 1

  **A New Member of the Family**

_Wily is building Crashman; Bubbleman is excited to have a new brother._

 

    Bubbleman stood on tiptoes in order to peer into the capsule. “When will our brother be completed, father?”

    “Ah, hard to say.” Wily frowned and turned his gaze on the orange-armored robot lying dormant. “There are a few bugs in the program that I’m trying to work out. It could take a week or so…maybe longer.”

    So long? Bubbleman was disappointed. He tapped on the glass and said “Can’t we wake him up right now, just for a little while?”

   “Of course not! It would be a disaster. With his IC chip in such a state, he’d act entirely insane.” Wily explained. “Be patient, my boy. I’m as excited as you are to get our Crashman online. But we must be patient or all my work is for nothing.”


	2. I can't Sleep.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bubbleman has a lot on his mind and doesn't want to be alone. Woodman is a good big brother.

 

 

    “Mmphh….” Woodman opened his eyes sleepily. “Bubbleman? What are you doing here so late, brother?”

    “Well…” Bubbleman shifted his weight self-consciously. “I was wondering if you’d let me sleep here…just for tonight.”

   “Are you scared to sleep by yourself? Because…your bunk is pretty close to Quickman, right? So you’re not alone.”

   “Yeah, but…” he fidgeted for a while before saying “I don’t want to sleep near him. He makes noises and…well…he doesn’t really want me around.”

    Woodman was very tired and tempted to suggest another one of his brothers for Bubbleman to bunk with, but he denied the urge and sighed. “Alright. You’re welcome to sleep with me, then,” he made himself say while smiling.

   Bubbleman closed the distance in a short, excited hop. “You mean it?”

   He patted the space next to him and said “Go right ahead. It’ll be nice to have company. You don’t snore, do you?” He added with a chuckle.

   “I don’t think so. But I’ll make sure I won’t bother you!” he replied anxiously.

   “It was a joke, brother…”

   “Oh.”

 

   For a while after Bubbleman settled down with his back to Woodman’s, there was silence. But Woodman sensed that his brother had something on his mind, so he didn’t go back to sleep. He didn’t want to be woken up and accidently snap at his brother.

   As he’d expected, Bubbleman presently spoke. “Woodman? Are you excited for Heatman to be completed?”

   “Mm-hm. How about you?”

   “I am! His function is so different from mine but…I think we’ll be good friends! He looks kind of like me, doesn’t he?”

   “Yes. Eyes like yours…about your height, too, huh?”

  “Yeah. So I’m really excited.” Bubbleman shifted his position. “You know…I kind of wish father had built me a little differently. Maybe a little taller, you know? I hope Heatman won’t wish that though…I hope he can be happy.”

   Woodman patted his brother’s back. “We’ll make him happy. We’ll give him a good welcome.”

   “Good idea! Let’s do it!” But Bubbleman’s exuberance quickly faded and he added “But I hope Quickman likes Heatman too. He…doesn’t seem to like s…some of us much.” Bubbleman sighed and said “I’m sorry. I’m probably keeping you awake. I’ll shut up now. Goodnight, Woodman.”

   “Goodnight, brother. Sleep well.”


	3. DWN-13, Crashman! Welcome, Bro!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crashman is online but locked away because his bipolar programming is still acting up. A simple lock can't stop Heatman from dropping in on his brother!

    “You’re not supposed to be in here.” Crashman stated.

     “Well, I got tired of waiting, and I won’t wait to meet you any longer!” Heatman declared. He reached out a hand to shake and said “I’m Heatman. Welcome to the team, brother!” There was a pause that threatened to become awkward. Crashman reluctantly reached an arm out, but instead of a hand, his arm ended in a large drill. “I don’t have hands, but thanks anyways,” he said. “Still, you shouldn’t be here.”

    “Why not? Because father says so?” Heatman snorted. “Father makes a bunch of rules for no reason.”

    “There’s a reason for this one! My program is still unstable, he says,” Crashman said earnestly. “It’s supposed to make me a better fighter but it just…makes me kind of crazy. I’m surprised I haven’t tried to kill you yet. So…you really should go.”

    But Heatman stubbornly refused to budge. “Neato. What’s your function?”

    “Explosives. It’d probably crack your armor wide open, so you should leave.”

    “I’m no coward, buddy. Anyways, check this out!” Heatman flipped the lid over his head low and hunkered down, his armor covering his feet. “Just try and get through this armor!” he boasted, his voice a little muffled. “It’s gotta be strong to withstand my fire. I bet your bombs would bounce right off.”

    Finally Crashman smiled. “Heh…maybe you’re right. That’s pretty cool.” “You bet it is!” Heatman opened the lid again, grinning. “So, wanna go meet the guys? I’ll bust you out.”

    “Wily SAID….”

    Heatman waved it off. “Wily said, Wily said…aren’t you ever going to give it a rest? It wasn’t a direct order, was it?”

   Crashman thought it over. “No, but…”

    “Then let’s go!” Heatman led the way to the door. “But I’ll warn you right off, steer clear of Quickman. He’s trouble. Woodman’s great, though. So’s mister Metal. We’ll talk to them first!” “Okay.”


	4. Game Show Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wilybots love game shows! In fact, they get a little overexcited when they get the questions right, even when it's just on TV...

      As Wily passed the open door, he heard the music of a game show playing with the volume way too high. He paused, weighing the importance of keeping TV at a good volume against continuing back to the peaceful atmosphere of his study, when a chorus of voices shrieked

     “WHAT IS GENE WILDER!”

     The bell rang, jarring his ears further, and the announcer exclaimed “That is correct!”

     “YEAAAAHH!” As Wily stormed into the living room, he found the robots on the couch, but in an instant they’d jumped up for the victory yell. “I KNEW IT!” Cheering, hopping, chest-bumping and general chaos ensued.

     “WHAT is going ON here?!” Wily’s voice actually carried over theirs with the tone of a lion’s roar. Startled, they all turned at once to face him but tripped and toppled over the couch, knocking it down.

     “We’re…uh…watching TV?” Metalman spoke up.

     Wily muted it. “It’s too loud! You’re too loud! Who gets so worked up over a game show? They’re rigged anyways. This is utterly…” He trailed off as he saw the orange-armored robot who had ended up flat on the ground. “Crashman?”

    “H…Hi, father.” He lowered his head, wishing to hide under the large helmet piece.

    For a while there was silence. Wily pressed a hand to his head and sighed. All he’d wanted was to grab a coffee and get back to work. “And just what are you doing out of your room? How’d you open the door without hands?”

    Crashman wriggled out from under the pile and stood, suddenly hot with anger. “You know, YOU’RE the one who didn’t give me hands in the first place…”

     Heatman popped up, cutting him off, and said blithely “Hey, I just wanted him to meet the guys. Ya know…bonding and all that fun stuff.”

    “You let him out?” Wily’s mustache twitched dangerously, and the Robot Masters wilted. Heatman was really sticking his neck out for his brother, but he wasn’t about to let Crashman take the blame for being there. He managed to keep smiling as if he didn’t noticed how peeved the doctor was, and replied “Yup. And ya know what, father?” Heatman had a great idea, one that might save him from   the screaming fit Wily looked ready to unleash. “You underestimate your own work! Crash here’s running just fine. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself!”

    Wily harrumphed and shut Heatman’s armor lid, but he was clearly flattered. The outburst was averted for now. “Never mind that. Come along, Crashman. I’m glad you had your fun, but it’s time for work now. Got it?”

     “Yes, father.” He turned to look at Heatman before leaving. His short brother gave him a bold wink and a thumbs-up. Crashman smiled wearily and raised his drill.

_Thanks, brother._


	5. Troubled Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crashman is experiencing more bipolar problems with his programming and has to be locked up until he calms down. Heatman believes this is unfair, and goes to visit his troubled brother.

Wily shut the door and then noticed Heatman standing there. He frowned and said “It’s one of his bad days, so I’m keeping him locked up for a while. Nobody is to go near him, understood? It is a direct order this time!”

Heatman nodded obediently. Wily relaxed. “Good. The last thing I need is one of my boys getting damaged so close to the deadline.” He walked off, his shoes clicking loudly on the metal floor.

Heatman heard no clicking of shoes. He’d suspected Wily would give him a direct order after so many infractions, so he had taken the precaution of turning auditory input off. He turned it back on and grinned. Technically, Wily’s order hadn’t been processed, so he could do whatever he wanted. And right now he wanted to visit his troubled brother.

After waiting a while, Heatman carefully bypassed the digital lock and pushed the door open. He slipped inside and quickly shut it behind him before somebody could notice.

He saw Crashman standing perfectly still at the far end of the room. Had he gone into hibernation mode? Heatman called “Hey, Crash! You awake?”

The robot whirled to face him, his face twisted with rage. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Geez! Take it down a notch, buddy,” Heatman said, raising his hands. “I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”

“I don’t want you here. Get out! Leave me alone!” Crashman roared back.

“I JUST dropped by to say hello. Okay? Hello!” Heatman said, even though he didn’t intend to leave until Crashman felt better. “Do you still need me to leave?”

“You deaf? I told you to get out!” Crashman approached him, his footsteps shaking the floor. “Just get out! Get out! Why do you guys keep bothering me? LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“Okay. I’ll leave you alone.” Heatman sat down against the wall, smiling. “I’m just sitting here, alright? I won’t even talk. It’s like I’m not even here, right?”

Crashman snarled and turned away. There was silence for maybe a few seconds before he looked back and yelled something that Heatman couldn’t even make out.

“I’m not here, so cool it. Look,” he folded his lid down, fitting into his boxlike armor. “I’m just an innocent metal box randomly placed against the wall, see?”

“You are such an IDIOT.”

“Ready to talk, then?” Heatman peeked out of the armor in time to see Crashman fire his weapon. He ducked back down and the crash bomb missed him by inches. “Whoa! I guess not.”

His brother kept firing, and the drill-like bombs rained down on Heatman’s armor, but none of them managed to penetrate even when they detonated. Heatman could probably stay protected indefinitely, but he was getting tired of being jostled around, and anyways, it was too hot in there. He poked his head out. “Done yet?”

Crashman seemed to realize what he was doing. He dropped his arms and scowled. “Shut up. Leave me alone.”

Heatman popped to his feet and sighed with relief as he felt the cooler air. “Ahh! Okay, sure. I’ll leave you alone after one more question.”

He refused to look at Heatman, but he growled “What?”

“You want energy? I got an e-tank right here.”

Crashman finally looked up. “Yeah…sure, whatever.” He said gruffly. Heatman held it out and for a moment Crashman just stared, but then he said “Well, what am I supposed to do? Skewer it? I don’t have hands, REMEMBER?”

“Yep. And I’m not tall enough to help you from there, so sit down and we can get this done,” Heatman grinned. Crashman sighed heavily, but he gave in and sat. As Heatman took the lid off, Crashman asked “Are you gonna pour it in my mouth or something?”

“Exactly, bud.”

“That’s….kind of awkward.”

“Get used to it! If you ever want to get energy from the creamy goodness of e-tanks instead of direct charge, this is about the only way. Anyways, we’re brothers. We do stuff like this for each other.”

He pressed the can to Crashman’s lips and held it while he drank. Then he took it back and drank some himself. “Ah, that’s good stuff.”

“Is it supposed to be warm?”

“Heh heh…not really. It’s only warm because I carried it for a while.” Heatman held the can up and offered “Want some more before I finish it off?”

“Yeah, thanks.” But Crashman made the mistake of shifting his position a little, and Heatman spilled the fuel on his face and it dripped down his chest. “Dude!” Crashman sputtered. But to his surprise, he didn’t become angry. He smiled and laughed, trying to wipe it off, and said “Can’t you hold it steady?”

“Hey, it’s not my fault!” Heatman returned, laughing with him. As he drank the last of the fuel, Crashman intentionally bumped him and Heatman was similarly smeared with it. “Aw man, Crash!” He laughed, crushing the can between his hands and tossing it away. “Ya know what, next time I’ll bring a straw.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, father. I think Crash is ready for you,” Heatman announced.

Wily looked at him with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Crashman? My bro you locked up? He’s ready to come out.”

“How would you kn….” Wily began, then cut himself off and threw his hand in the air. “Of course, you went to see him, didn’t you? Argh…well, I’m glad you’re safe but…” he shook his head. “No wonder I’m losing my hair. Alright, you win. I’ll go take a look at him.”

“Yeah! Thanks, father!” Heatman bumped Wily’s fist even though Wily wasn’t returning the gesture, and went blithely out of the room. Maybe Crashman would be cleared in time for them to watch TV tonight…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bipolar disorder is no fun, even for robots.  
> I love how Heatman takes care of Crashman!


	6. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short scene of how Quickman treats Bubbleman.

Quickman looked down at him with disdain. “We can always count on him to mess things up. What a klutz!”

“N…no, I’ll clean it up!” Bubbleman hurried to his feet, trying to reach Quickman. “Then will you let me go with you? I won’t make trouble!”

His brother palmed his face, easily shoving him back. “You’d just slow us down, frog-feet,” he snorted, and Airman laughed. “Go play in your kiddie pool, ‘kay?”


	7. To Father's Plan!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilybots hang out and discuss what jobs they'll get once Wily takes over the world.

“We already know that Airman’s gonna be a psycho weather tyrant,” Heatman said, rolling his eyes. “What about you guys? What are you gonna do?”

“Hm…I think I’d like to go into forestry,” Woodman decided. Heatman laughed. “You WOULD! But hey, I think you’d be good at it.”

“I could help, I guess,” Metalman said noncommittally. “Clearing dead trees and stuff. I’m designed for lumber processing anyways. Might be fun.”

“How about you, Heatman?” Crashman asked. Heatman didn’t even take a second before replying “A TV host. Bubbleman could join too. How about it, Bubs?”

Bubbleman cringed at the awful nickname. “Uh…maybe. I’d rather work…you know…someplace not on land.” He turned to the window, wistfully looking out. “I want to see the real ocean. I don’t know, but I’d find something to do there. Just think of it! Miles and miles and miles of water, thousands of feet deep, and all of it mine.”

Woodman turned to his other red-armored brother and asked “So what about you, Quickman? What job are you going to have?”

“Heh. I’m gonna kill Mega Man, of course!”

“I mean after that. What are you going to do after father’s plan is completed?”

It was the first time Quickman had thought of this. A strangely unsettling feeling came over him, making the room seem cold even though Heatman was right beside him. Once Mega Man was dead…what use could he have? There were only so many robots to destroy. He frowned and turned away from his brothers. “I’ll think of something. It doesn’t really matter anyways.” He snorted and stood. “I’m outta this geek-fest.”

As he left the room, Metalman raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Aw, mister Quick’s always like that,” Heatman laughed. “Forget him. Crashman, what are you gonna do for a living?”

“What CAN I do? I’ll just blow stuff up, I guess. Demolition work or something.” Crashman regarded the drills he had instead of hands and not for the first time wished he could do something constructive like his brothers.

“Great! When father becomes ruler of the world, he’ll give us the jobs we want.” Heatman lounged back on the couch, gesturing grandly with an e-tank. “We’ll be living the high life, boys, in a world free of annoying baby blue bots!”

“I’ll drink to that.” Woodman bumped his can against Heatman’s, and his brothers joined the toast. “To father’s plan!”

“To father’s plan!”


	8. Crashman's Plan!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crashman wants to go out in civilian mode like his brothers! Problem is, he's unfinished. But he's not gonna let that stop him!

Metalman adjusted his hair, smoothing it back with one hand as he studied his reflection. “I don’t know….do you think it looks alright?”

“Dude, give it a rest! The messy look is in.” Quickman pulled on a dark jacket and regarded his brother with annoyance. “Can we hustle it up a bit?”

“I’m just not used to my civilian form.” Metalman nervously turned away from the mirror. “How about you solo it again?”

“No way. Dad wants us out there today. As in you too. As in, ASAP.”

Metal sighed and shook his head, but followed his brother to the door. “Right. Let’s do it.”

The two passed the orange demolitions robot on their way out. He said huffily “Well, have a good time.”

“Ha, cheer up, Crash.” Metalman said. “I’d trade with you if I could. I hate civ recon.”

“Then let’s!” Crashman jumped up excitedly and exclaimed “Let me go instead!”

“No way, Crash.” Quickman stuck an arm out to stop him. Crashman steamed “And why not?!”

“Because you’re incomplete.” He just HAD to drop that again, didn’t he? Crashman struggled to control his anger. “So what? I can look like a human too! See?” he shoved his helmet off onto the ground and the sandy hair he wasn’t able to comb flopped over his face. He smiled winningly, like the humans he’d seen on TV.

Quickman pretended to cough, covering up a laugh. “Uh, yeah. See ya, Crash.”

As the two robots left the house, Crashman kicked his helmet as hard as he could, sending it skittering off to strike against the wall. “Idiot bolt-heads! They can’t tell me what to do!” He stomped around for a while with a dark expression. Then it hit him. Who said they told him what to do, anyways? He could just go out by himself! Why not?

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah! I’ll show ‘em. I’ll go out by myself!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The OC mentioned in the tags will be appearing soon!


	9. Crashman vs Quickman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crashman gets fed up with the way Quickman treats their clumsier brother.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Crashman bellowed, cracking Quickman over the head with his forearm. Quickman reeled but recovered fast. “You scrap! Are you nuts?!”

“You’re scrap! Stop tormenting him!” Crashman returned. “I hate how you mess with them! You’re so full of it you can’t hear anything but your own voice!”

“Is that what it’s about? I had no idea you were such a baby!” Quickman snapped. He saw Crashman preparing to attack him again, and in a flash stood behind his brother and returned the blow, saying “If you were smart you’d back off, stub-arms!”

Crashman completely lost it. He whirled around, surprising Quickman, and slammed him into a wall. “GARRRH! I’LL SHOW YOU WHAT I CAN DO WITHOUT HANDS!” He fired a crash bomb at Quickman, who barely managed to dodge. “You’re out of your fricken mind!” He yelled, and shot a boomerang which stabbed into Crashman’s leg.

It didn’t even slow him down. He charged with a shout of rage, shooting crash bombs in Quickman’s path. They detonated one after another, blasting deep holes in the ground and walls. One found its mark and went off directly underneath Quickman, cracking his armor and flinging him high into the air.

The explosions brought Woodman, Bubbleman and Metalman to the scene. At the far end of the wrecked room, Crashman put his foot on Quickman’s chest and aimed his weapon directly at his brother’s head. “WHO’S ON TOP NOW?” He roared.  “I COULD KILL YOU RIGHT HERE! YOU FRICKEN SCRAPHEAD!”

“Stop!” Woodman grabbed Crashman’s arms, pinioning them to his sides. “Brother, stop! What are you doing?”

Crashman struggled against him, overcome by rage. “I know you hate him too! I know what he called you! Let me KILL HIM! He shouldn’t be our brother!”

“Please stop, Crashman. I don’t want to hurt you!” Woodman protested. Metalman was trying to drag Quickman to safety. Crashman managed to raise his arm a little, aiming his drill at Quickman’s head. He clenched his teeth. “NO MORE!”

“No!” Bubbleman hopped in front and spread his arms. “Crash, STOP!”

For a moment, everything was completely silent. Crashman gazed in surprise at Bubbleman protecting his tormentor.

“Please don’t do it, Crashman!” Bubbleman pleaded. “He’s our brother!”

“He’s scrap,” Crashman growled. “He hurt all of us! And laughed!”

“I…I know, but…please!” Bubbleman shuffled closer, imploring. “Please, Crash….calm down, please?”

After a while, Crashman relaxed. Woodman hesitantly let him go, and Metalman got Quickman out of the room. Quickman tried to stand and pushed Metalman away. “Leave me alone…I can take care of myself!” he snapped.

“No you can’t. Now stop being like that and let me get you to repair!” Metalman returned.

 

Crashman sat at one end of the room. He wouldn’t talk anymore, or look at anyone. Despite that, Bubbleman sat beside him, holding onto his drill.

Woodman sighed. “Well, I suppose I shall tell father that there has been…an accident,” he said, surveying the damage to the room. He glanced back at the two and then left.


End file.
